A tailor promised Mr Evans a secret pocket in his new jacket. “Nobody will know it’s there,” she said.
At the fitting, Mr Evans searched the lining. He found the regular pockets, an inside pocket, and a narrow pocket for his pen.
“Where is the secret one?”
The tailor smiled. “If I tell you, it won’t be secret.”
“I need to put my train ticket in it.”
She finally pointed him toward the left sleeve.
Mr Evans slipped the ticket inside. On the train, the inspector asked for it.
“I have it,” Mr Evans said, patting both sleeves. “I just can’t remember which secret I used.”